


naptime

by professortennant



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, how did we end up here already
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8237821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: 3 times ginny caught mike napping and the 1 time mike caught her





	

she catches him napping at 6am in the training room, head pillowed on his gym bag and snoring lightly. she figured he’d be the kind of man who rattled the walls with his snoring. she flicks water at him until he wakes up and the blush that spreads up his cheeks is endearing. he scrambles (as much as he can on stiff knees) to his feet and scrubs a hand over his face and ruffles his beard.

‘baker! i was just, uh, getting started.’

she laughs and doesn’t bother muffling her grin behind her hand. ‘whatever you say, old man.’

she taps the side of his face once, twice, and saunters away, calling over her shoulder, 'let’s go, cap.’

 

the second time she finds him napping, he’s passed out in the back of the bus, cap pulled low and legs splayed wide. it had been a long, long trip away and they’re all on edge, all feeling the pressure. they’ve won 8 games in a row and between the spotlight ginny brings, sports analysts across the nation are suddenly turning their eyes to the padres as world series favorites.

so, of course, while the rest of the team squabbles and blows off steam any way they can: loud music and fighting and harder training and frequent bus stops on the way home; lawson is napping.

typical.

she slides next to him, evaluating the best way to shock him out of sleep. it’s rare that she catches him off guard like this. it’s….nice.  
she decides that she’ll leave flowers in his heads another time. she opts to smack the brim of his hat down with a all too chipper, 'move your ass, lawson!’  
which should be hilarious. except apparently slapping awake a sleeping mike lawson isn’t a peaceful awakening. it’s flailing limbs and a shout of surprise and ginny gets whacked in the mouth.

'shit! rookie…what the hell? are you crazy?’

she’s cradling her bottom lip and laughing hysterically because it’s her own damned fault. she manages to wheeze out, 'caught you sleeping again, gramps. you’re gonna get a reputation.’

and then mike is laughing, too. because she’s insane and a breath of fresh air….and he hopes she keeps calling him old man and gramps. anything to help him remind himself she’s off limits. too young too young too young. he clings to it like a mantra even as she slings an arm around his shoulders and laughs with him off the bus.

 

he’s stretched out on the training table, packs of ice on his knees, eyes closed, and headphones firmly in. he’s listening to drake. it’s not his normal vibe–his taste in music topped out in the early 90s.

but if this drake guy is courting his rookie, well, he’s just being a good captain looking out for her.

he feels a presence and his eyes peak open and she’s there, hovering above him. the lights behind her create a halo effect and he has to blink to make sure he isn’t seeing things.

she grins and begins rattling off at him, 90 miles an hour, about pitch calls and training and does he think they can work on a new set of change-up calls.  
his brain is too fuzzy for this and she’s so damn energetic. it must show on his face that he’s not quite following because she stops and then a slow smile spreads across her face.

'oh. did i interrupt nap time?’

he rolls his eyes and turns the volume up.

'get outta here, rookie.’

 

they lost. it was bound to happen after the streak they’d been on. they’d been running on adrenaline and they’re burnt out.  
their asses get handed to them.

and baker blames herself. of course she does. his rookie is gonna kill him.

the game is long over and the players and managers and press have finally cleared out, assuming ginny had snuck out the back.  
he knows better. he knows exactly where she is. it’s where he’d be 10 years ago.

he picks up his duffle bag and pops his knees, grimacing, before headed to the film room. there’s a light on and he knows she’s there, pouring over every pitch and fielding error and taking notes until her hand cramps.

except when he pushes the door open, she’s not taking notes and her eyes aren’t glued to the screen. she’s slumped over her chair, head tucked into her folded arms, fast asleep.

for a half second, he contemplates revenge. all the jokes she’s made a his expense. and then…he thinks about the weight on her shoulders and the growing feeling of affection and protection (she’d kill him for feeling that way) and he stops.

he reaches into his duffle and grabs his warm-up jacket, lawson emblazoned on the back, and drapes it over her shoulder. he considers smoothing her hair away from her face and he thinks in another time and another place he’d lean down and press a kiss to her forehead and offer to carry some of the weight on her shoulders (shit, he’s turning into a sap).

but for now, he’ll settle with catching her in a nap and having his jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at professortennant.tumblr.com where i'm apparently knee deep in this ship already


End file.
